A Good Pair of Eyes
by ugahill
Summary: General Hank Landry is intrigued by the unconventional looks shared by Dr. Elizabeth Weir and Lt. Colonel John Sheppard. Can he get to the bottom of this mystery--and employ their power for his own?


_This was done because I owed it to my friend Anuna over at the Sparky forums at Gateworld; but it was inspired by a wonderfully talented humorist, gateraid, who gave me the idea of this story in the first place courtesy his talent for captioning._

_Thanks, guys, and I hope you enjoy!_

A Good Pair of Eyes

"That's all for now. We appreciate your assistance in this matter. Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard will show you to the armory where you will find what you need to gear up." Doctor Elizabeth Weir cast a glance around the table with a stern, yet appeasing, smile. "Thank you once again for volunteering for this."

"We depart at in ten minutes," John Sheppard returned, rising. The rest of the young marines seated around the table rose in response. "Let's get moving."

General Hank Landry rose as the soldiers marched noisily out of the conference room, turning to Elizabeth. "Well, Doctor, you certainly don't waste any time."

She shrugged in response, with a friendly grin. "Well, we've learned to do things pretty quickly around here. Thank you once again for coming, General."

"My pleasure." He paused as Sheppard stopped at the door, turning back towards them. Weir caught his eye and her smile deepened; Sheppard returned it with a grin of his own, nodding his head once, and then left.

Landry studied the spot where Sheppard had been. "Did I miss something?"

"What?" Elizabeth frowned. "I don't think so. Was there something I didn't cover fully in my report?"

"No, no, that much I think I understand. Iratus Bug hive, threatening a native settlement and you want my SG marines schooled in Gou'uld extermination to help out. Yes, Doctor, there we're clear. I was actually referring to Colonel Sheppard."

Elizabeth's eyebrow rose as she walked alongside him, through the doors of the Atlantis conference room. "Did Colonel Sheppard say something? I know some of his mannerisms can be unorthodox, but…"

"His mannerisms are fine. I was just wondering what that little moment a minute ago was about."

"A minute ago?" She entwined her hands together in front of her, a confused expression on her face. "I'm sorry sir, I don't quite know…"

"Never mind." Landry paused at the landing of the staircase, taking an appraising glance around. "Atlantis really is magnificent."

"Yes. I'm glad you are able to stay a little while longer this time, General. Perhaps you can truly appreciate some of the city's wonders."

"We'll see, Doctor, we'll see. In the meanwhile, let's get this mission started, so we can save that village and get our marines back home."

"I agree." Elizabeth escorted him up into the control room, as the marines returned from gearing up, gathering in a group at the bottom. Walter was standing over the technician Chuck, Atlantis's version of his position. And probably bleeding green with envy. Atlantis's dialer system, having been created for the Ancients who inhabited it, was a much fancier version of the Earth system.

Landry hung around, observing the systems of Atlantis's control room, as the marines continued to gather around the gate. A few minutes more and Sheppard had the entire contingent gathered, with McKay, Teyla Emmagan and Ronon Dex in tow. Elizabeth ordered the dial up and watched, a stoic expression on her face, as the entire group marched through the gate in file order. Sheppard was the last to leave; he cast a glance up in their direction, nodding at Landry before catching Elizabeth's eye as he had done before.

She returned the stare with a concerned expression. They held the gaze for about a half a minute before Sheppard's lip curled up in a smile, he raised a hand, and made his way through the gate.

Landry frowned as Elizabeth turned away, fixing the rest of the control room with a smile, and then motioned for Landry to join her in her office. "Now all we can do is watch and wait."

No one else seemed to have caught the long exchange between Weir and Sheppard; Atlantis's staff continued their routine with nothing out of place. Landry followed her, taking a seat in one of her guest chairs as she pulled out a datapad and began what he presumed was the mission report.

He didn't know how it had never been mentioned before, the staring thing. A relationship between higher-ups was typically not something that was kept hidden for very long. Why he, or anyone at SGC, had not heard of it before was unusual. And yet, there could be no other explanation for it—those looks were…intense, to say the least.

He contemplated it as the day wore on.

Even a few hours after the mission had successfully returned—only one casualty, a villager who had gotten too involved in the extermination—Landry was still musing over the inappropriateness of it all. And yet…there was something strange going on, because though Sheppard had returned slightly battered—seemed he'd tried to rescue the villager, and had quite nearly gotten jumped on by the bugs—Weir had reacted as she might to any close friend, and nothing closer. Even Sam Carter showed more emotion when it came to O'Neill, and heaven knew they'd done everything under five hundred suns to throw people off that attraction. Weir, on the other hand, displayed genuine concern—more touching, perhaps, than she might with most—but not full blow angst. Might have had something to do with Sheppard's being unharmed, but overall it just didn't feel…involved. Landry's sense of propriety wasn't offended by the general attitude of the two when they were together—with the exception of those _stares_.

It was rather confusing.

The first couple of people he'd asked about it responded in embarrassment, not really wanting to say anything about it, though it was obvious they were aware. At first he thought it was because they knew something more, but it occurred to him after the fifth technician turned away that his rank may have something to do with them not wanting to rat out there superiors.

Surprisingly, he got the first decent answer from an unexpected source—Rodney McKay.

"Oh, you mean the eye sex thing."

"The _what_?" Landry asked sternly.

McKay looked up from his laptop, still dressed out from his mission, a half eaten donut in hand. "The…eye…sex…thing?"

"Doctor McKay…"

"What?" McKay's eyes were wide. "What did I say?!"

"Doctor McKay!"

"What? Look, that's what everybody calls it. It's like…you know…the kind of intimacy of…_that_…but with eyes." He gestured with his finger. "It's not like they're really, _you_ _know_. At least I don't think they…"

Landry chose not to jump deeper into _that_ hole. "Alright. I'll take your word for it. But tell me, Doctor…what does it mean?"

McKay had returned to his laptop; he looked back up, a little frazzled. "What does what mean?"

"Why do they do…_that_?"

"They don't do _that_; I thought we just established that! At least, I don't think they do. Or if they do they keep it hidden really well, because just last week I ran across both of them in the hall a little after midnight and they didn't look at all like…"

"DOCTOR!"

"What? Look, the stare thing is just…what it is. I don't know why they do it; they've just been doing it for a really long time."

"And it doesn't have any particular…significance?"

"I don't know! Do I look like John or Elizabeth?"

Landry sighed. "Thank you for your help."

"You're welcome. Look…you're not going to say anything to Weir or Sheppard about my calling it eye sex, are you?"

"I thought it was considered 'normal' behavior."

"Well, it is. To everyone but them_. _I don't think they know they do it."

"Really."

"Yeah, so…don't say I said anything."

"You think it would really bother them if they knew everyone else had observed them doing it?"

"I don't know. But I'd rather not run the risk of being shot by Sheppard. I'm rather fond of all the bits of my anatomy, important or not."

"Okay, Doctor." Landry let McKay get back to his donut, musing as he walked away. It was obvious the 'eye sex' had some kind of power behind it, but he was curious to know exactly what it was.

Landry figured if he was going to get to the bottom of this 'matter', it would be best to consult with other members of the expedition. The most obvious place to start would be with the other members of Sheppard's own team; they'd have been present for almost every 'look'.

Teyla Emmagan, though slightly embarrassed by McKay's frank title for the act, acknowledged it worked on a mental level of some kind.

"It seems to be a way of sharing the burden of responsibility," she said, dressed out for banto stick practice in the Atlantis gym. "Neither Colonel Sheppard nor Doctor Weir expresses the emotions of fear or trepidation very well; this physical connection seems to be their way of sharing those feelings with one another without have to verbalize them."

"And it doesn't mean anything more?" Landry inquired, hands behind his back.

Teyla smiled a lovely smile, though her tone was demure. "I cannot answer that with any degree of certainty, General. I believe Colonel Sheppard and Doctor Weir are very complicated people."

"I see." He offered up a small smile. "But this 'act' seems to have some a degree of power behind it, would you agree, Teyla?"

"It does seem to strengthen their resolve about certain things, General Landry."

The Satedan Ronon Dex, in contrast to Teyla, was far less eloquent in his assessment of the matter. "Yeah, they have a thing."

"And how would you describe this 'thing', Specialist?"

Ronon made a face. "I don't know. That's why it's a thing."

"Well, does this 'thing' interfere with their jobs?"

"Does it look like it?"

Landry took a deep breath. "It doesn't appear to."

"Then where's the problem?"

"There isn't one. Let's just say I'm curious."

This assertion caused a raised eyebrow from the Satedan. "Really."

Landry decided to end the conversation there.

--/--

Various other expedition members who knew Weir and Sheppard well had different takes on the 'stare', as Landry took to calling it around others (though McKay's definition of it hung around in his head, to his chagrin).

Doctor Carson Beckett had frozen in the middle of the infirmary as soon as he asked him about it. "Are they alright?"

Landry frowned. "Yes, they're both alright. Why?"

"Has there been anything to do with the Wraith?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"The replicators then? The Replicators are attacking?"

"No, Doctor, everything is completely fine. I was just…"

"We're not about to get zapped by beams of light from the sun again, are we? Because I have to bloody well tell you, I'm not going through that again."

Landry gave up on him at that point.

Chuck the technician shrugged, seeming a bit surprised he was required to carry on a conversation longer than three sentences that had nothing to do with dialing techniques. He admitted to having been privy to a number of 'looks' but saw nothing unusual about them, at least not in a personal sense.

Doctor Zelenka, on the other hand, was completely confounded, and seemed completely unaware of the act. "Of course, I am not with them at pivotal moments most of the time," he'd said quietly. "For some reason I am only called in when Rodney is unavailable."

Major Lorne seemed hesitant to speak of it; after a roundabout style of questioning, Lorne acknowledged he'd once inadvertently hinted at the eye sex in front of Weir, for which he'd gotten drubbed by another of Elizabeth's facial expressions—the eyebrow.

Having been slapped himself with the eyebrow once or twice, Landry didn't ask any more questions, though it seemed to assert McKay's initial assessment was right—they didn't know they were doing it.

This raised a number of interesting questions in Landry's mind—how it worked, why it worked, what it meant in terms of leadership. It quite obviously didn't affect the functioning of Atlantis in any particular way, as Elizabeth and Sheppard ran a very tight, efficient ship.

But what was its true function, if it wasn't directly personal?

He decided that the best answer to that question lay with the one person schooled in such things—Kate Heightmeyer, the expedition psychologist.

His initial question raised a soft smile from Kate, who, on the surface, appeared completely unfazed by the inquiry. Landry still hadn't figured out if that was something she was trained to do or if she was so used to hearing so many oddball requests in this galaxy that nothing surprised her anymore.

"Well," she said, in her soft, soothing tone, "sometimes people in extraordinary circumstances feel the need to connect on a physical level as a way of reassuring themselves that others feel the same as they do."

"I understand that, Doctor. But this is a different type of connection than ones I am used to seeing."

She pursed her lips for a moment, searching for a proper answer. "Well…Colonel Sheppard and Doctor Weir are rather complicated people."

"Yes, well, for as complicated as they may be, Kate, I am still curious as to what exactly this 'look' _means_."

Kate's smile faded. "If you don't mind me asking, General—is there any particular reason why this 'stare' between them concerns you?"

Landry sat back. "Not really."

"Then why, may I ask, are you so interested in it?"

"I'm not sure, honestly. I suppose I'm just intrigued."

"Well…" Kate reached for her coffee mug, wrapping long fingers around it. "Sometimes we are most curious about something which we admire, perhaps because we aspire to share similar experiences. Could it be, General, that your interest may be because it is something you'd be interested in trying, perhaps with someone else?"

Landry stared at her, flabbergasted. "I…don't know."

Kate fixed him with wide eyes, her genial smile returning. "Well, maybe that is something you should be asking yourself."

--/--

Landry mused on Heightmeyer's observation for a little while, as he walked the halls of Atlantis. He was scheduled to depart the following morning at 0800; he had two more meetings with Weir and Sheppard before he and the contingent of Marines he brought with him left through the intergalactic bridge.

The first meeting left him even more intrigued, particularly because Elizabeth and the Colonel seemed to throw mini-looks at each other throughout it. One thing he did notice was how well in tune the pair seemed to be with everything. By the end of the debriefing, which had featured some rather unpleasant details of the villager's death, Landry thought he might have figured out what it was Doctor Heightmeyer was insinuating.

It was quite obvious, through the eye sex thing, that Weir and Sheppard had established a base understanding that didn't require them to say anything to demonstrate their support of one another. They weren't just in agreement—they were on the exact same page at pretty much all times. In fact, now that he thought about it, they'd sort of always been like that, the one exception being that Ancient nanovirus he'd read about over two years ago.

Minus that one instance, however, they seemed to work in conjunction, like a well-oiled machine. And yet, he'd never been bored by write-ups detailing their game plans. Now that he'd seen them in action, it seemed it wasn't that Elizabeth had neglected to send him meeting notes. They really didn't have them, because they didn't need them.

The ability to avoid having to speak one's mind the majority of the time? No need to exposition on positions, or debate things with subordinates, or even justify cause? Heightmeyer had been right; that _was _something he was very interested in attaining. Landry had always tried to make himself a man of little words, but even less words would be, in a word, _ideal_.

The problem was…_how_. In execution, the eye sex looked easy enough. Just meet someone's stare and hold it. Subconsciously, if you could convey your emotions, some kind of level of understanding should be intuitive, if the person you did it with was smart enough. And most people Landry worked with were smart.

He just needed to learn how to finesse it to work for him.

He decided to give it a try.

The question was, who?

It seemed that it wouldn't work with anyone. It definitely had to be someone with whom you were familiar. Elizabeth didn't share looks with everyone, after all. He figured part of it had to be that she was familiar with Sheppard.

Which meant if he tried it, it would have to be with someone who he knew well.

The answer came easily the next time he entered the gate room. Walter was sitting in the technician's seat, monitoring the Atlantis systems.

If there was anyone Hank knew well, it was Walter.

Weir and Sheppard didn't seem to put a lot of thought into when they used 'the look', so he figured there didn't have to be much of a reason. Which was fine, because he currently didn't have much of a reason. But he figured it was worth trying anyway.

Walter turned as he approached, greeting him with a nod. "Good Evening, sir."

"Good Evening, Walter." He fixed the young man with an intense stare.

Walter watched him for a moment, looking vaguely uncomfortable, then turned back to the dialer. When Landry didn't say any more, Walter looked back up at him, brows furrowed, then turned back to the dialer again.

He looked back one more time, this time with wide eyes. "Um, is everything alright, sir?"

Landry sighed. Obviously, this wasn't working the way he'd imagined it would. "Yes, Walter, everything's fine."

The technician smiled uncomfortably. "That's…good, sir."

"Just keep working. I'm going to take a walk around."

"Yes, sir." Walter quickly turned back the console, trying to be nonchalant about it. Landry frowned; experiment one hadn't gone as planned.

Time to try something different.

--/--

Landry decided that, if 'the look' didn't work in general, it needed perhaps a more specific set of circumstances. As far as position, Weir and Sheppard were close to equals, though of course Weir was a civilian. That may have been his initial problem. Walter was too much of a subordinate; trying it on someone in that position would, of course, intimidate him.

The second meeting scheduled for that evening was being attended by the _Daedalus's_ commanding officer, Colonel Stephen Caldwell. There was someone who was close to an equal, at least in a position that was closer to his rank.

They met at 20:30, in the Atlantis conference room. By the time they'd all taken their seats, including Richard Woolsey, the representative from the IOA, Weir and Sheppard had already engaged in two bouts of eye sex. It still baffled Landry that no one else noticed.

Or maybe they were so used to it no one cared.

The meeting began with the routine mission report, conveyed by Sheppard to the general group. After everyone had been briefed on the circumstances of the Iratus bug mission, Elizabeth began a summation of currently existing problems in the Pegasus galaxy.

Landry tried to catch Caldwell's eyes twice during her summation, but the General was focused on Weir, albeit with an unconcerned expression on his face.

The moment Elizabeth mentioned the _Daedalus's_ role in what sounded like a fairly risky gambit involving a known Wraith base, Caldwell gazed his way and Landry knew this was the perfect opportunity.

He put everything he had into the look he gave, focusing intensely on Caldwell's eyes, even shifting his eyebrows a little bit to speak his mind. The Colonel met his stare with intensity, locking gazes with him.

The room went silent. Though Landry felt he was getting the gist of the motions, there was one slight problem.

He had _no_ idea what Caldwell was conveying through his return stare.

Landry assumed that whatever look was shared, it was a two way street between Weir and Sheppard. She stared, he stared back, and they both got it. Whatever 'it' was.

But with Stephen, he honestly had no idea what the thought was. Or whether Stephen was even thinking or just staring.

The Colonel raised an eyebrow, a small smile creeping across his face. Landry suddenly felt a little uncomfortable.

And he wasn't the only one.

As he broke concentration, he was vaguely aware of the rest of the room staring between them, Elizabeth at full eyebrow, Sheppard with a completely weirded-out look on his face. Woolsey, as always, looked irritated. The others in attendance had eyes down or were staring off into space, twiddling hands uncomfortably.

And then, Weir and Sheppard gave each other a look—a full blown honest-to-peas eye sex look—which caused both of them to smile.

They were even doing it while he was trying to do it and doing it better, _damn them._

He didn't bother trying again. He'd only get frustrated and cause Weir and Sheppard to do it again, which would frustrate him more. And they certainly didn't need a reason.

The end of the meeting brought an invitation from Caldwell to discuss the Daedalus's Wraith initiative more intensely out on Atlantis's balcony, but Landry was far too peeved to focus on business now. He had to figure this thing out, or it was going to drive him crazy.

--/--

0730 brought his contingent of marines back to the gateroom, courtesy two jumpers piloted by Sheppard and Lorne. As Sheppard descended Jumper One into the gateroom Elizabeth smiled at him, and they shared what Landry presumed was another eye sex moment. Presumed, because honestly he didn't have the stomach to observe them anymore.

He'd spent the entire night going over the process in his head, to essentially no avail. Didn't work with subordinates. Didn't work with close ranking military personnel. He thought maybe the gender thing had something to do with it, but there were plenty of men Weir could have done the same thing with—and she didn't. Same thing with Sheppard—he didn't appear to have the same kind of visual intercourse with Teyla, or any of the other base females.

And he'd pretty much been assured by the entire expedition that, unless the two of them were sneaking into closets somewhere when absolutely no one was watching—which was nearly impossible, considering the number of eyes on Atlantis—it was absolutely not a romantic thing. At least not directly. It was possible there was some underlying sexual tension to the whole thing, but that sort of stuff never happened in the Stargate program, so why would it be any different for Weir and Sheppard?

So if it wasn't a direct relationship and it wasn't underlying, then what the hell was it?

He sighed in frustration.

Lorne had lowered his jumper down, and saluted Weir, who gave him a nod—but no eye sex. Nowhere. Completely not the same thing.

There was only one angle he hadn't tried. Though Elizabeth was the head of the expedition, Sheppard didn't technically answer to her, because of her civilian status. She was his superior in a sense because of her status, but not his boss, at least not per se. The military aspect of their relationship, however, was subordinate to the civilian nature of the expedition.

So perhaps what he needed was someone of civilian status who was his boss, but not quite. Someone who could command some things, but not everything. But who?

Jumper Two had left; it had been decided that Jumper Three, which would escort he, Walter and a few others, would depart ten minutes after Jumper Two so there was no crossover problems at Midway or at the SGC.

Jumper Three had already descended and was parked on the gateroom floor, awaiting their boarding. Elizabeth turned to him with a smile, meeting his eyes but sharing none of that intensity she reserved for Sheppard.

"General, thank you so much for coming."

"Thank you, Doctor, for your hospitality."

"Consider it _my_ pleasure. And anytime we can do anything to help…"

"Of course we'll let you know."

She gave him one of her rare full smiles, which turned mischievous as her gaze shifted from him. "Ah, Mr. Woolsey! Did you find everything to your liking this time around?"

"Everything seems well in order, Doctor Weir. Certainly more pleasant than the last time I was here."

"Yes, well not being attacked by Replicators does make things a little easier."

As Woolsey offered up a wan grin, it suddenly hit him: if there was anyone who fit the description of boss-but-not-boss, civilian but not superior, it was Richard. He was a perfect choice.

"I'm going to see if Jumper One's made it to the SGC," Elizabeth replied, heading towards her communications console. Woolsey watched her go, then turned and walked from the control room, eyes down on the papers before him. Landry followed quickly, giving a salutatory wave to Elizabeth, not wanting to miss his chance.

Woolsey didn't stop his brisk walk until he reached the back door of the jumper. Landry tried desperately to think of a reason to engage him, but none came to mind. _Status of Atlantis? Weir's position? Post-replicator reports?_

"They're going to have to do something about their crop yield," Woolsey muttered, still not looking up from his papers, "there's just not enough for us to trade efficiently. It's a waste of international funding."

"Oh, yes…I agree," Landry returned. "Maybe that can be discussed at the next Atlantis briefing at the SGC."

"I was just going to suggest that, General," Woolsey said, looking up.

"Of course you were, Richard. Of course you were."

_This was it._

Landry threw everything he had into the stare this time around. He could feel himself focused, eyebrows intense, his body leaning forward slightly. Woolsey held his gaze, one eyebrow slightly raised.

And, and…

_It was there._

That distinct feeling of having made a connection—of being in tune with someone else, of _knowing _what they were thinking. Because it was very clear, from the expression conveyed in Richard's eyes, exactly what he was thinking.

_Not you too._

The response caught him off guard. "What do you mean, not you too?"

Woolsey frowned heavily. "Because you're the fifth person who's tried it on me, General. The…" he glanced around, lowering his voice, "the Weir-Sheppard look."

"Really."

"Yes! And to be honest it's getting to be a little annoying."

Landry crossed his arms, feeling disgruntled and somewhat ashamed. "Well, I'm sorry. I had no idea."

"O'Neill was the worst. He spent half his time during the Ancient inhabitation just…staring. I had to stop attending the meetings with Helia because I think she was getting the wrong impression. I don't even want to talk about what Caldwell tried to do."

"Well…did it work?"

"Did what work?"

"The eye sex! Did any of it work with them like it did just now?"

Woolsey blanched. "What did you just call it?"

"Never mind, Richard. Just answer my question."

"Well, yes, actually. I think if you're paying attention it pretty much always works."

Landry frowned. "Really."

"Well, maybe. To be honest, I think the…look…between Weir and Sheppard is unique. I don't think anyone can imitate it."

"Hmmm. You may be right. They seem to be able to turn it on at random."

"And at any time. I suppose you could truthfully call it…well…"

Landry crossed his arms, leaning in towards Woolsey. "Eye sex?"

Woolsey swallowed, adjusting his glasses. "Yes."

"Then I suppose I give up." Landry turned up towards the control room, where Elizabeth was observing them from the balcony, arms crossed. "We're ready, Doctor. Is everything set to go?"

She smiled. "Absolutely General. You are free to board Jumper Three; Jumper Two's crossed through Midway."

"Good. Mr. Woolsey, how about you and I head on home."

Richard was staring thoughtfully into the Stargate. "Well, maybe its better that we don't know what it means. Saves everyone the hassle of having to deal with matters of the heart."

"That's the company line," Landry replied, smiling. He cast one final gaze at Elizabeth, who leaned forward on the balcony, one eyebrow raised, watching as they boarded the jumper. "Whether we like it that way or not."

Elizabeth gazed down at him, catching his eye. He gazed back in surprise as he realized she was sharing a look with him—an honest-to-god, accept-no-imitations, Weir-Sheppard eye sex look. And with the ease of any conversation he'd ever had with her, her meaning was very, very clear.

_Nobody likes it that way, General. Trust me._

_***END****_


End file.
